A Tale Of Brothers Grim
by Moskovy
Summary: "One day, Ludwig – we'll get out of here. You'll see," - Once upon a time, there were two brothers who set off towards a new life, only to discover that magic ran deeper than legend. AU!Fic/Hopefully not as cliched as it sounds.
1. Of Broken Families

**A/N:** _There may be some Germancest themes later on; not quite sure yet. Just warning you._

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1.

**Of Broken Families**

Once upon a time, as stories should begin, there lived to two brothers. The eldest of the two was tall and lithe with silvery hair, and eyes like rubies in set snow. A perpetual grin was his face and he was known amongst the people of Hanau, Germany as Gilbert Weillschmidt. The younger of the two was starkly opposite; he stood taller still than his brother, and he was more often than not seen with a line for a mouth and a furrowed brow. His blue eyes were cold like the river that flowed past their once-sweet cottage and his hair glinted yellow like the rapeseed flowers that bloomed in the fields. His name was Ludwig.

The two brothers had lost their dear father. Well, truth be told, they had always been losing him. They weren't exactly sure when they had begun to lose him, but Gilbert remembered more than Ludwig and that was all he would say on the matter. Ludwig was too much of a good boy to question his older _Bruder_; loved him too much to even hint at any doubt. But it wasn't to say, of course, that they were alone. They lived with their mother who worked and cooked and cleaned. And, in her sorrow was rarely home and when she was, there was a man with his arm around her waist to help her stand in her drunken stupor.

The man was always different.

And the eldest grew to hate their mother while the younger stood by and watched as the always-different-man made his brother's blood flow with his fist. Behind his door and under his sheets, Ludwig wept. Perhaps it was then that the cottage lost its sweetness.

Every day, Gilbert would prop Ludwig up on the kitchen counter, make a breakfast of porridge and wurst, and they would say their prayers. They would eat in silence until Gilbert broke it with the same thing:

"One day, Ludwig – we'll get out of here. You'll see,"

And Ludwig would nod and eat his porridge like a good boy while his brother ruffled his hair and stood to open the door for the man that he hated and woman that he loathed.


	2. Of Dreams Come True

**A/N:** _Please Review if you enjoy it so far. C:  
_

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2.

**Of Dreams Come True  
**

When Gilbert was twenty, he had finally snapped. Ludwig was only thirteen at the time.

There was glass on the floor.

There was blood on the wall.

And then they were gone – Gilbert carrying along two battered suitcases; one for him and one for Ludwig. Ludwig was holding onto his hand. He was trying not to cry. His brother wasn't crying. He had to be a big boy. Mamma wasn't there anymore – she hadn't been for a long time.

The gravel burned beneath their feet.

The wind ran its fingers through their hair.

Gilbert smiled at the horizon and Ludwig forgot for a moment that everything was going wrong in their world.

It had taken them a day and a half to get to Berlin. Gilbert was smirking triumphantly as he strutted through the streets, looking as if he owned the world. Ludwig didn't try to copy his swagger and lagged behind him, gawking at the buildings and the people in their fancy clothing. The sky was the colour of metal and the air smelled of tobacco. Ludwig inhaled deeply.

"We're finally here, Ludwig!" Gilbert spun on his heel and grabbed Ludwig's shoulders, shaking him excitedly. "_Wir haben es geschafft! _We did it!" Ludwig mirrored his brother's grin.

Together, hand in hand, they went down the road, a skip in their step and a churning feeling of happiness and anxiety in their stomaches. The people smiled and some scoffed.

And Berlin; oh Berlin, with its skies of broken clouds and leaking sunlight, became home to a young man with eyes like set rubies in snow and a boy with hair as yellow as the rapeseed flowers that bloomed in the fields.


	3. Of Strange Things

**A/N:** _Please Review if you enjoy it so far. C:  
_

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3.

**Of Strange Things  
**

Strange things began to happen in Berlin. Ludwig was eighteen. Gilbert was twenty-four.

Or maybe, it wasn't that strange things _began_ to happen. Strange things were always happening.

No.

Tt was when strange _people_ began appearing.


End file.
